The other day was a beautiful warm day, not warm for summer at 65°F, but warm for mid-February, the daffodils were blooming, the fruit trees were in flower, and even one of our Aeoniums was putting on a show; the world felt delicious. I was on my way to Pulmonary Rehab and, when I got in the car, I turned the radio on. They were talking about Israel raiding a Refugee Camp in Gaza. One young father, who had his entire family wiped out was talking about trying to find the remains of his two daughters. He found one and knew it was her when he saw part of an ear with his daughter’s earring on it. I just couldn’t listen. I turned the radio off, seething.

By the time I had finished exercising, I had calmed down. I got back into the car and again turned on the radio. This time. they were interviewing a Ukrainian returned POW and he was talking about how he was tortured while he was a POW. Again, I just couldn’t listen and turned the radio off to drive home in silence, thinking about what I had just written – indirectly – about the value of facing the horrible truth and how hard it is to do so in real life.

A couple of nights ago I was reading about the House not passing the Ukraine/Israel/ Border bill because Trump didn’t want them to. I was especially surprised at Lindsey Graham, a lifetime hawk, voting against supporting Ukraine. He said he voted that way because Trump told them to vote against the bill. Along the same theme, Candidate Trump has said he wants his daughter-in-law, Lara Trump, to be the RNC Chair. It was late and I was tired and I asked myself – for at least the hundredth time – how did Trump come to so dominate the Republican Party? For the first time, I could sort of feel the answer. For the first time, I could understand how Caligula was able to put his favorite horse, Incitātus, in the Roman Senate.